


Princess, Princess

by FalliciousPuns



Series: Fiedler's Llamas [11]
Category: The Spy Who Came in from the Cold - John Le Carré
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Knights Princesses and Dragons, M/M, could be a multichapter, dark!fiedler, time to start another AU instead of finishing an old one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalliciousPuns/pseuds/FalliciousPuns
Summary: “You-““Me.”  He gave a tiny twitch of the lips.  A smile perhaps.





	Princess, Princess

**Author's Note:**

> IT STARTED AS A HAUNTED HOUSE AU????? ALSO THANKS TO LEGEND OF ZELDA BREATH OF THE WILD FOR INSPIRATION  
> also here you go small fandom of one  
> something to tide you over to all the 20K+ works imgjddfjasjnnjsdfndsf

The floorboards creaked under Alec’s feet, the remnants of a once fine castle town already showing signs of rot.  The princess, he thought, the princess.  He managed another step, then another.

He was just crossing over the drawbridge now, glancing into the empty city.  The stories were all true.  Statues, grotesquely twisted into agonizing shapes littered the streets.  All around him, figures stared back at him: a man clawing his hair, a woman whose face was contorted into a scream, a child clutching a dog in terror. 

Mist had descended along with him, creeping in down the mountains.  Leamas could barely see the tall tower, the tallest tower, where he knew the princess would be waiting for him.  Along with the wizard who they had named Dragon.

Navigating the narrow streets to the castle was eerie.  Every so often, a silently screaming face would leap out at him through the white fog, and Leamas would recognize with an ice cold pang a face he used to know.  He would be among the cursed had he not left.  He had _left._

He arrived at the grand door, once made of warm wood, but now iced over with harsh frost that glittered in the dim light.  With this fog, there was no time.  Drawing his sword with a hollow ring, Leamas broke through the film of ice that had locked the doors shut, then rammed his shoulder into the old wood. 

The door creaked, revealing a molding red carpet which stretched into a desolate entrance hall.  The sight, which pulled him back to warmer days, chilled him to the bone.  The suits of armor lined up against the walls were missing their heads.  Ice webbed over the walls, and Alec almost slipped on the frozen floor.  There was something oozing from the ceiling, the walls, in the cracks in the floor.  Carefully, he examined it. 

It moved ever so slightly, quivering every few seconds, _pulsing_ like a beating heart.  An eerie light emanated from veins that ran through it, a foreboding purple.

Alec backed away, deciding not to touch it.  Who knows what malicious substance it was?  Upon closer inspection, he saw a huge mass of it stretched like spiders’ web across the ceiling corners.  

Careful to inspect exactly where his feet were stepping, he made his way to the door at the end of the entrance hall.  The door swung open at a touch, revealing a lonely, bare corridor.  He stepped inside and suddenly the world tilted, the bare walls resolving into ornate hanging tapestries.  A rich red carpet rolled along the floor and torches rested in brackets on the walls.  It must be an illusion.

There was a scraping behind him and Leamas whirled around.  His stomach dropped.  Half a dozen suits of armour were stumbling towards him, weapons drawn.  With horror he saw that their innards were the same viscous mass that oozed between the cracks in the walls.  It wormed around under the chest plate and through the gauntlets, throbbing. 

Leamas feared that the ooze would eat away at his blade so he stamped his heel into the chest of one.  It tumbled back, the pulsing mass spilling over the royal carpet, flowing in patterns as it oozed back over the armour, reassembling itself.  The others kept coming.  Leamas turned and fled down the corridor. 

It was a labyrinth.  He’d only been in the castle proper a couple of times, and he quickly became lost.  Up.  He needed to go up.  She would be in the tower.

He found a staircase and sprinted up in circles.  Years of training gave him the stamina to sprint the entire way.  Upon reaching the top, he was stopped by a heavy wooden door.  Ice webbed across the lock, but thankfully there was none of the strangely glowing substance.

He slammed the pommel of his sword into the door.  “Princess!  Princess it’s me!  I’ve come to rescue you!”

There was a scrambling, as if someone were standing up in a hurry.  “Please help,” came a soft voice from just behind the door, “Before the Dragon returns, please help me…” the voice was quiet, as if she were afraid someone would hear. 

Leamas shoved his entire weight against the door- once, twice-

It burst open and he toppled inside, into a slight woman with long dark hair.  They fell on top of each other.

“Princess Elizabeth!”  Alec whispered.  “My love!”

Her eyes widened.  “I knew you would come,” she said, “I knew you would come for me.”

Her room was bare, save for a small bed and a writing desk.  Papers littered the floor.  Leamas couldn’t determine their contents from here, and besides, he was too occupied with the sight on the floor just underneath him.  She was beautiful.

“Shall we escape?” he asked, flashing her a grin that he hoped looked dashing enough.

She laughed despite the worry in her expression.  “Yes.  There’s a secret passageway out of the Throne Room.  It will be easier than getting out through the front door.”  That was his Liz, always with a plan.

They stumbled down the stairs, hand in hand, and snuck into the castle proper.

“How do we get to the Throne Room?” Leamas asked.

Liz smiled, and for an instant, Alec forgot they were in a possessed castle. 

She put a finger in front of her mouth and gestured for Leamas to follow her.  They snuck hurriedly down the red-carpeted corridors, turning corners after careful inspection.

They heard a noise just around one corner, and Liz ducked into an old broom-cupboard, closing the door as Alec crammed himself into the small space with her.  Outside, they heard one of the possessed sentry suits of armour clatter past, the ring of scraping metal contrasting with the sickly wet sounds of the ooze.

“Spells on armour are overrated,” Leamas whispered once the danger had faded.

Liz let out a glorious giggle and Alec pulled her head in and pressed his lips to her forehead.  “I’ve missed you.  I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered.  They were going to be safe.  They had to be.

She blushed.  She was so beautiful with those lovely dark locks, those lovely long lashes, those lovely deep eyes.  “Hurry,” she whispered, “To the Throne Room.  The Dragon never goes there.  We’ll be safe there.  And then we can escape.”

Leamas nodded and eased open the cupboard door.

She led him further down the maze of corridors, left-right-right-left-left-through-the-kitchen-left-left-right-left.  They reached the ornate Throne Room door, and Liz pushed it open.

It was as if nothing had changed.  The throne room was the same as it had been when Leamas had been knighted, only five years ago.  Light shone through the windows, the throne’s arms gleamed a loving gold.  Pews lined either side of a carpeted aisle, and several chandeliers hung, unlit, from the ceiling.  Leamas smiled.  The Throne Room had been spared at the very least. 

Liz turned to him, an embarrassed smile on her face.  Her long hair swung like black velvet robes.  Leamas was so in love, he felt his heart sing as he took her hand. 

“It’s been too long,” she said, drawing closer so that he could taste her breath in the air. 

He drew her in for a long kiss-  Her lips tasted how roses smell.

Hands caressed the sides of his body, wrapping around him. 

“I don’t want to let you go either,” Alec said, weeping openly. 

She shushed him and kissed him back.  “Do you love me?”

“I love you more than I know.”

She kissed him again.

They embraced for the three years he’d been away, the two years she’d been trapped, the five years they’d been apart.

His eyes closed, Leamas pulled her closer to himself, hands sliding up her back and over her neck and through her hair, her hair- _her hair_ -

He pulled away in absolute, spine chilling terror.

The person he was staring at wasn’t the Princess Elizabeth.  It was not his darling Liz.

The man in front of him was a slim figure clad in dark robes which seemed to roil on the ground as misty tendrils of cloth, billowing in some non-existent wind.  His face was haughty, with sharp cheekbones and an even sharper intelligence in his eye.  His hair had remained the same Liz-dark, but it was shorter now, curling around his ears.  The wizard, the dark wizard, the Dragon, had eyes like deep woods. 

“You-“

“Me.”  He gave a tiny twitch of the lips.  A smile perhaps.  “It was a good illusion, was it not?”

“Where’s Liz?” Leamas shouted, his voice quivering.

“Safe…” The words hissed out like serpents sliding over sand.  “Want to see?” he asked.  His voice was like silk. 

A disgustingly loud squelch echoed around the room, and a thick rope of ooze twice the width of a century old tree unlatched itself from where it had been sucking to the ceiling.  There was a figure inside, half hidden by the thick glowing veins of dark light.  Leamas jumped back in surprise.

The pulsing mass came to rest next to the wizard, who reached out a hand, sinking it deep into the gelatinous substance.  The sound of slick wet sliding echoed around the empty hall.

“Come out, Liz,” the Dragon said softly, hand latching onto the figure inside the ooze, “Someone wants to know if you’re alright.”  He said this in such a sincere tone, but with such obvious cruelty that it made Leamas feel sick.

Slowly, the discharge parted, and with a repulsive sucking noise, the figure’s torso emerged.  She had long, dark hair and perfect skin, a film of slime covering her upper body.  Liz was completely limp.

The wizard crouched down to her head and pulled the hair away from her face to show Leamas.  The sickly slime slid over his fingers as he cupped her face. 

Leamas was frozen where he stood.  It was Liz.  It really was.  And that made everything all the worse.

“She’s perfectly fine,” the wizard said, eyeing the princess.  “Aren’t you?”  He made a complex twisting motion with one hand over the back of her neck, as if his fingers were attached to puppet stings.  Viscous substance wormed its way nauseatingly out of her mouth, stretching it open.  The princess’ eyes opened, rolled back in her head and she moved her arms.  Or rather, the vile substance inside her moved, compelled by the wizard’s magic.  Her arms caressed the Dragon’s collar, leaving tracks of discharge.

“I am perfectly fine,” came the words from her mouth.  Slime wriggled.  Her face was stretched into a smile.  A perfect smile that made Alec’s heart warm despite the knowledge that she was just a toy.

Leamas felt bile rise in the back of his throat.

“Beautiful, isn’t she,” the wizard said, cupping her face and pressing his lips onto her cheek.  His face came away slick with the pulsing ooze, which he licked up, his pink tongue darting over his lips.  One of his hands slid down Liz’ neck, cupping a lovely breast.  He gently pushed her back into the _something_ , which gurgled wetly as it slid back over her, consuming her once again.

“I’ll kill you,” Alec said.  His voice was hollow as he watched the pulsing mass retract back up to the ceiling.

“But you love me,” the wizard said.  “You said so.”

“Go to hell for your tricks and lies.  I love you not, you tricked me.”

“Either way, I do not die today.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Leamas spat, drawing his sword and darting forward.  He closed the space between himself and the wizard in an instant, his blade slashing downwards to cleave him from shoulder to hip.  The wizard did not move.

The blade smashed into the crook of the dark wizard’s neck and stopped.

“Do you want to know why they called me Jens Fiedler, Lord of Puppetry, Dragon?” he asked.  He sounded indifferent as his eyes bored into Alec’s.  The knight saw that the wizard’s skin had formed pure white scales, overlapping like jagged triangles and blocking his blade.  The Dragon, Fiedler, opened his mouth.  His tongue was forked like a serpent’s, and his face was beginning to rearrange itself, soft skin hardening into marble scales.  His fingers, perfect and long, had sharpened into claws.  His eyes were a burning orange, pupils mere slits.  Something white and gaseous bubbled in the back of his open mouth.

Shit, Leamas thought.  Oh fucking _shit_. 

Leamas ducked, expecting icy cold fire to erupt from the wizard’s mouth.  It didn’t.  Instead, Fiedler kneed Leamas in the stomach, knocked away his sword and with those claws he drew the man close, so that they were mere inches apart.

A white substance leaked from the Dragon’s mouth, and as it rolled down his chin, Leamas saw webs of frost spike across the wizard’s skin.

“Don’t worry.  I spit fire as well,” Jens assured him.  “But I have something different in mind for you.”  One hand latched onto the back of Leamas’ head and Fiedler pulled their faces together, clamping his mouth over Alec’s.

_No!_   Leamas thought as he felt the sharp tongue flick over his own, felt the sharp jabs of ice slide down his throat.  He couldn’t end like this.  He _mustn’t!_

Somehow, he managed to tear himself away, spinning away, towards the throne.  He felt so very cold.

The wizard advanced, eyes unreadable. 

Instinctively, Leamas backed up.

Approach.

Back up.

Approach.

Leamas backed up again, drawing a dagger he had strapped to his belt and holding it out as threateningly as he could.

Approach.

Leamas backed up- and stumbled, falling into the royal seat and banging hard against the throne’s backing.  He felt something pulse through his pitiful leather armor.  It wriggled.  He’d backed up onto the throne and now the _something_ that had been oozing earlier was- it was-

A fleck of it crawled onto his face, having bulged out from behind the throne, from between the stones of the wall, from _everywhere_.

Leamas swore, leaning forward to pull himself away from the whatever-it-was.  He’d much prefer to take his chances with the dark wizard.  It would be more of a dignified death at any rate.

A firm hand pressed into his chest, and Fiedler said, “No, no, no, just you stay there,” in a politely curious tone of voice.  

A repulsive wet sound made the wizard flash another small smile as the ooze slid over Leamas’ hand, binding him to the throne. 

“It’s fitting,” Fiedler said, “You want to marry a Princess.  Now become the King.”

Leamas struggled, trying to pull himself out of the substance that was flowing with such a horrible sound all over him, _pulsing._   It wormed its way through the chinks of his armor, sliding over his chest, caressing slime up his neck.  His entire body was slowly consumed and unable to move, save his face.  Fiedler had shifted back to a human, his eyes once again lovely and deep, skin with that look of softness.

“Be mine, won’t you?” Fiedler asked, leaning down for a kiss.  His lips were soft against Alec’s own.  He still tasted how roses smell.

And then the substance closed over his head and flowed through his eyes, nose, ears and mouth, filling his lungs.

He knew no more save that he was sinking into a lovely darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> hOW COULD I FORGET TAILS,,,,,  
> I GUESS ILL HAVE TO EFFIN  
> MULTICHAPTER IT


End file.
